I spend a fair amount of time on Pinterest, and lots of that time is looking at yummy foods.

I found a recipe for Vanilla Milk with Chocolate Ice about two years ago, pinned it, and promptly forgot about it.

When it's time to go grocery shopping, I spend a bit of time meal planning, and part of that time is browsing through my pins of fantastic looking foods and determining what I can create - I really like to try new recipes. This month, this one caught my eye and I decided that I'd make it for my kids, to kind of kick start our Summer of Fun.

The only problem was that my pin lead to a dead spot. So I browsed a few different places online and came up with my own version. My kids pronounced it delicious - It tastes like melted ice cream! - and they've already planned for me to make it again - with their help. (I tossed a couple of the ice cubes into my coffee - both cold and hot - and that was superb.)

Doesn't this look yummy?

Vanilla Milk with Chocolate Ice Cubes

Chocolate ice

7/8 cup milk

1/4 cup water

1 T. unsweetened cocoa powder

1 t. sugar

5/8 cup dark chocolate chips

Vanilla Milk

2 1/2 cups milk

4 T. sugar

2 vanilla pods

To make the ice cubes, place the chocolate chips in a 2 cup glass measuring cup. Pour the milk and water in a saucepan, add sugar and cocoa and mix thoroughly to avoid lumps. Bring to a boil over medium heat then remove from heat. Pour the mixture over the chocolate, let it melt 5 minutes then stir gently with a whisk until smooth. Cool and pour into an ice cube tray and freeze.

To make the milk, pour the milk into a large saucepan, add sugar and stir to dissolve. Slit both vanilla pods in the center, scrape the seeds and put them in the pan. Bring to a boil over medium heat then remove from heat. Let cool, then refrigerate several hours or preferably overnight.

Thank you for humoring me as I post these. It's nice to know that SOMEONE is reading them - even if it's not my kids, lol.

Dear Children,

Volunteer your time.

Recent studies have indicated that those who volunteer life healthier, longer lives, but that’s not why I want to encourage you to do so. Volunteer because you can and you should. You meet amazing people and you learn amazing things, even if you are just wiping the windows at church or scooping poop at the zoo. Not only that, give selflessly of your time and energy and you will reap what you sow.

I’ve volunteered my time for countless organizations and for countless causes, and I’ve never once regretted it. I’ve made amazing friends, learned skills and made miniscule changes that together add up to big works.

Find a cause, something you believe in and get busy.

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

Not everyone wants or needs to hear what you have to say. It’s an extreme arrogance to think that what you have to say is always right – and often, it’s not. Learn to swallow what you have to say unless you are specifically asked. Even then, learn to temper how you express your opinions – no one likes a know it all.

When you were younger, I thought I knew it all about how babies should be born. I’d been lucky enough to have good births, two with a fantastic midwife, and thought, stupidly, that because things went well for me – it was because of me. It might have been, and was certainly because I had great care and was low risk – but I looked down on a good many people who had maybe not such as good of an experience. And that was wrong. In my desire to be right, I hurt people.

Learn from my mistake.

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

If you make a business call, be business like. If you don’t have time to wait on hold, tell the person on the other end that you will call back. Don’t hang up. Your time is valuable, but so is theirs, and it forces the other side to either a) return your call or b) answer your call when you call again. Both make you appear rude and uncooperative.

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

If you are unhappy with the service you receive from an establishment, TELL THEM. Even if it is a doctor’s office – you are paying money for a service and should be happy with that service. Give the other party a chance to fix the mistake before you bad mouth the institution.

On the other hand, do not accept poor service just because you don’t want to rock the boat. You are paying for a doctor to do his or her job, a mechanic to repair your car correctly, the restaurant to serve an appetizing and filling meal for your money’s worth. If you don’t get it, do not sit and stew, but speak up. Use a firm voice, but a polite one, and learn how to speak without either being bullied or appearing to be a bully. It’s a fine line, but one I have confidence that you will master.

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

There is no Pain Olympics.

There is no need to always have it “the worst”.

You know of what I am speaking. I have a cut that’s really bothering me. Well, you have cut off your leg. I have a headache. You must have a brain tumor. I have a kid with food allergies – your kid has much more severe allergies.

This kind of one up manship does nothing to endear you to anyone, and makes you annoying to be around. No one wants to feel inferior all of the time.

There's not too many more of these. Thanks for your patience with my ranting.

Dear Daughter,

One piece of advice – listen to the old people. When in doubt, ask the old people.

I say this today as I remember yesterday. We went to the Bar Mitzvah of a neighbor boy, and when we entered the temple, I could tell that you were unsure of what do to. One thing I’ve learned in my adult life – always, always watch the old people. They know what to do, they know what to say, and if you ask, they never mind telling you the correct time to sit or stand, bow or walk.

So many times in my life, I didn’t appreciate the elderly. Goodness knows, they don’t always represent well – but, really, no age represents well. For every grumpy old person, there’s an equally grumpy young person. As I’ve matured, though, I’ve come to see that those who have reached a certain age should be admired. Anything in my life that I’ve struggled with, an older person has done it before and could probably have helped me, if only I’d let them.

So, dear daughter – ask the old people. And truly take the time to listen to them. Don’t be in such a hurry that you listen with half an ear, thinking about where you need to go and what you need to do.

Just sit. And listen.

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

Always bring a book.

Allow me to explain.

Everywhere you go, there is apt to be some down time. You will be early and the person you are meeting is running late. The doctor’s office had an emergency. You arrived for carpool and found your clock was off.

Whatever the situation, you have a few minutes. What will you do with that time?

You will surely have your phone, for I can never see you without your phone. Instead of catching up on your gossip, take that time to grow your mind. You don’t have to read War and Peace – even a chick lit novel will do. The very act of reading causes minute changes to the brain. In even the most basic of books, you might come across an unfamiliar word, and looking it up will increase your vocabulary. Historical fiction, as campy and stupid as it is, is usually well researched – so skip the sex parts if you don’t like them. Or highlight them if you do.

I’ve always been an avid reader, as was my own mother. I may not have completed my college degree, but I’d venture to say that I’m a good deal smarter, thanks to the vast amount of books I’ve read over the course of my life. I’ve read trashy novels that were so poorly written and full of sexual encounters that they embarrassed me. I’ve read science nonfiction that was so wordy it hurt my brain. But each and every one of those books taught me something.

Always keep a book with you. In your purse or in your car, on your bedside table and near your couch.

You will never regret it.

Love,

Mom

Dear Daughter,

One day in the future, you will make this call to me. “Um, Mom? I’m so sorry for the way that I treated you when I was a teenager. I was rude and I’m sorry.

You don’t believe me now and you won’t – until you have a teenage daughter of your own. That teenage daughter, upon hearing that you want to go out and she needs to stay home, might say things like, Why are you going out with them? They aren’t your friends and they don’t care about you! Don’t you know that everyone laughs at you for trying to fit in with them?

Hurtful things. Rude things. Things that you will wish you could take back when you are 40 and have a daughter who acts as if you are stupid and dumb and not worth any kind thoughts.

Remember this time.

And I accept your apology.

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

Courtesy may be old fashioned, but it exists for a reason. It is still present because it is still necessary, In fact, I’d venture to say that if courtesy doesn’t make the world go ‘round, at least it makes the journey more tolerable.

If you come to the door at the same time as another person, hold the door. And I don’t mean go through the door and hold it when you are on the other side – by doing so, you are asking the person to walk around you and often the door frame isn’t big enough for both of you. Instead, let the person behind you pass first. It only takes a second, and doesn’t make you tardy for anything. So what if he gets ahead of you in line? It’s not going to kill you to wait a couple of extra seconds.

Say please. Say thank you. Say yes ma’am and no sir, even if you aren’t in the military, and most especially if you are dealing with an elderly person. Let other drivers merge in your lanes, and never ever ever mutter under your breath.

You will never regret being courteous, but you will feel guilty if you are rude.

Oh, I know. You hate to hear me say that. You think I’d have you attend school in a burqa, but nothing could be further from the truth. I want you to be fashionable, comfortable and covered. Wearing those pants – the ones with an ultra low rise - sends a message, one that I’m not sure you understand.

For as long as I’ve been alive, and since WAY before that, people have been judged by their appearance. I know, I know, your friends would never do such a thing. But they do, and those you don’t know judge as well. You are a pretty girl.

Dress like you respect yourself, and others will.

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

Be a joiner. Join a club. Do SOMETHING.

Don’t be the person who sits on the sidelines and watches. Even if you are more comfortable in that position, even if the thought of joining a group gives you the willies and makes your stomach ache long after you’ve forgotten why you are worried. You don’t have to join the drama club or forensics – but there is a club or group out there for you. When I was in high school, I didn’t participate in any groups until I was a senior – and I regretted it. I remember telling my own mother one day when I was fresh from a Cooking Club meeting, “I can’t believe how much fun this is! If I’d known I would have joined much sooner!”

Hindsight is 20/20, but find a group that has a common interest and join. Give it a few meetings before you decide that it’s not for you. Different people attend at different times, and you might meet your best friend or your future spouse if you just give it one.more.try.

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

Be prepared. It’s not just the motto of the Boy Scouts, but it’s an actual mantra that I want each of you to adapt and master. Right now, you laugh at me for the pocketbook I carry, but I’m never without tissues, pens, scissors, nail clippers and ibuprofen and I’ve saved your behind numerous times.

Be prepared for your work as well. Take the time to research the knowledge that you should have; there is nothing more embarrassing than being caught unawares, especially by your superior – or someone that maybe isn’t looking out for your best interest. We all know that there are many, many people who fit this description, don’t we? Do your research, plan ahead and never rely on anyone else.

It’s for your own good.

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

Manners and etiquette exist for a reason. They make other people feel comfortable. If you are coming to a door with another person, grab the door and hold it for them. Never rush towards the door, open it and go through. Use your please and thank you’s, your yes ma’am and no sir. They have been around forever, and they aren’t going anywhere.

Boys, stand up when a lady comes to the table or departs. Yes. It’s old fashioned, it’s outdated and I don’t care. Trust me. Do it once, and watch your date’s eyes widen. You will have an immediate level above any other guy she’s dating.

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

There is no reward for being right. Remember that the next time you want to argue. Being difficult about being right will only make you less enjoyable to be around, and you may very likely find yourself correct – and alone. If you absolutely know that you are right, ok. You are right. What did that get you?

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

There is no penalty for finishing last. You might be embarrassed to be the last one to turn your test in, or the last one to cross the finish line, but you did it. That’s more than many people can say. Be proud of your efforts, take pride in your accomplishments. If you are testing, take the time to review your work before you turn in your paper.

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

There is a difference between being “alone” and being “lonely”. One doesn’t feel good. Learn to enjoy your own company, without the noise of another person, the cacophony of the television, or the glare of a screen. Learn to be alone in your thoughts, to find solace in your mind. Appreciate your own thoughts.

But if you are lonely, do not dwell in it. Do not become depressed and focus on that thought over and over. Whatever you are doing is not working for you, so you need to change it up. Have you joined a club or group? Do you have a hobby?

Join a running club. Go to the senior center and play chess with a veteran. Learn to play an instrument. Do something.

But learn to be at peace in your own mind.

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

Exercise every day. Not only for the physical benefits, which are vast and immeasurable, but also for the endorphins – which really do exist. I know, I can hear you already: I don’t like exercise. Usually said with that whine that you know I despise. So you had a bad experience with soccer. Try running. Fell off your bike? Try roller blading. Go to a Rock Climbing gym, play a Wii game, or call some of your friends for a pick up Football game.

Exercise improves your mood as well as your body. Not only that, it’s easier to keep a habit going that you can’t remember beginning, rather than have to begin again and again. Exercise at least thirty minutes every day – an hour is even better.

Learn to cook a few things well. I don’t mean ramen noodles and macaroni and cheese in a box, but real, Honest to Goodness, homemade comfort foods. You don’t have to love to cook, but your body and wallet will both thank you if you learn to cook just a few key foods.

Learn to roast a chicken: remove the organs from the center and rinse. Put the bird in a pan, rub with olive oil and drizzle honey on top. Fill cavity with a cut up lemon or two and sprinkle fresh rosemary on top. Bake until it reaches 165 degrees. Or until the pop up timer, well, pops up.

Speaking of which, always use a meat thermometer. No one should get food poisoning from your cooking. Remember the argument that your dad started on Easter, when he accused me of trying to give the family food poisoning – all because the pork still had some pink? Remember that I used the meat thermometer? Pork is finished at 145, chicken at 165. You can’t tell by looking. Use the meat thermometer.

Make bread from scratch. It’s not difficult if you can follow directions – and I know you can follow directions. I can’t tell you how impressive it is to bring a loaf of bread as an offering when you go to dinner with a friend. Homemade bread not only tastes better, but it’s amazingly good for you.

If you do like to cook, terrific. Make as much as you can from scratch. It’s so satisfying to look at a plate of food and know that you made all of it. I’ve made many things from scratch that I never thought I’d be able to – cheeses, breads, jams and jellies, cookies.

Learn to cook from scratch. It’ll save you money, it’ll keep extra pounds off of your body, and it’s fulfilling and impressive.

Your body and your bank account will thank you.

Cooking is love.

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

When you have your own home and you have new neighbors move it, bring them a treat. Make some bread, cookies or even a fruit salad. Bring it over with a notecard that contains your name, address, email address and phone numbers. It’s a little thing that goes a long way towards helping get your relationship with your neighbors off on the right foot.

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

We’ve just come from a party at someone else's house. I’m tired. Another family member and I cooked a great meal. We cleaned it up. No one else at the party helped - or even offered.

When you go to a party, unless it’s a catered affair, lend a hand. Even if the host or hostess assures you that you don’t need to help out – you do. Help bring the food out. Get a drink for your hostess, or bring one to a friend. Don’t expect to be waited on, but get out there and lend a hand.

When the meal is over, take a minute and clear your own place. You don’t have a maid. Your hostess invited you over to visit with you, not cook and clean for you. Does the garbage need to be emptied? Take the initiative and do it. If your hostess insists on cleaning up by him or herself, this is not your opportunity to skate away and party. The host or hostess, even if they say they'll clean alone, will resent the fact that they are left in the kitchen to clean while the party goes on. At least keep the hostess company. You will be invited back, and your host will love you.

And so will your mom, because I know good and well that I've taught you better.

So, um, yeah, it's Wednesday, and the weekend is not only in the distance, but we are coming up on another one. I have terrible time management skills I think. Here is some of the fun we had last weekend - wonder what will be on tap for this weekend?

My girls had their ballet performance. They couldn't quite believe that their mom, their old fuddy duddy mom, not only knew how to do stage makeup, but could actually do a pretty good job.

We had to bury the second hermit crab, which was devastating to the shortie brigade of the family. I'm thrilled that they departed our lives - I'm SO not an animal person.

But my shorties are deeply feeling people, and so we have tombstones, scattered flower petals. and remembered the lives of Coral and Hermie with a short prayer service and an off key rendition of Amazing Grace.

Please try not to notice that my fence needs to be painted. <sigh>

And then I had some fun, which will later be shared, with these guys....

So. Now that the weekend has passed, I can't very well ask what you did - so I wonder - what's on tap for you this upcoming weekend?

The local art museum had the traveling duck, a 40-foot sculpture titled "Rubber Duck" by Dutch artist Florentijn Hofman, on watch over the museum in the Hague River in front of the museum's entrance from May 17-26, in order to celebrate the grand reopening after they'd done a ton of renovation.

When I took my kids to see the duck, and we wanted to stay and explore the newly reopened art museum, it was difficult to find parking.

Scratch difficult. IMPOSSIBLE. Do you see all of those tiny people dots in the photo?

So we parked in a nearby parking lot, said our prayers to the Parking Lot Gods that we would not be ticketed, booted, or towed, and hoofed it across the bridge. Along the way, I noticed that there were several locks attached to the bridge, and it reminded me of the famous Paris footbridge, Pont des Arts. The Pont des Arts bridge is absolutely packed with thousands of locks that have been carefully inscribed with the initials and date of a couple, locked and the keys tossed into the river to commemorate their undying love for one another.

How totally cool, I thought to myself.

And then, yesterday, I took my husband on a "Surprise!" trip - he had no idea where we were going - and we went to hang our own lock on the Norfolk bridge. There aren't that many there, maybe 100, and I thought it would be a super cool way for us to, you know, do the romance thing - the thing at which I suck SO horrificially.

Of course, he didn't help matters either, because on the way, we played one of our most favorite games EVER - what characteristics will Mr. Masses next wife have?

We are a ton of fun at parties.

He was super happy, stunned that I'd come up with something so ROMANTIC when that's just not my MO.

He wrote our initials and the date on the lock...

And he tossed the key in the water.

And I took what I thought was a very cool photo of the locks, imagining all of the other couples who'd done the same, pledging their undying love for each other and tossing the key in the water.

And I tried not to think about things like water pollution, fish, metal in the water - and tried, instead to think about LOVE.

I posted pictures on my personal Facebook, and everyone congratulated us - we are coming up on 25 years of marriage - not until December, but we have a church wedding celebration in June and so I just kinda smooshed them both together and people commented on the pictures and liked them and asked me for info on where is this cool bridge located and how can they do it....

We didn't coordinate colors very well, and it was pretty windy and the sun was right in my husband's eyes - I totally did that because, helloo, why were we talking about YOUR NEXT SPOUSE, SIR?

And this one is blurry, but we both liked it, and I'm all about reality here, and if I was a better writer, I would be able to tie a blurry photo in with a segue about "Life is not always perfect" and "Things are never as they appear" - but I'm not, so pretend someone else wrote some charming words of wisdom that brought a mist of tears to your eye.

So, I was feeling pretty good about myself - I'd managed to surprise my husband, do something really romantic, inspire tens of friends on my Facebook to do the same -

and then, today, I see that the Pont des Arts bridge has COLLAPSED under the weight of the locks and police are asking people to refrain from adding locks to bridges, including the Brooklyn Bridge. And I followed a rabbit trail of online article - ugh, never read the comments!! - decrying the locks on bridges and those who do them as dumb and stupid and self centered.

Like many people who write, I have several half written, long abandoned, manuscripts. I'm never going to do anything with most of them - although hope springs eternal and I have YET ANOTHER ONE that is DEFIITELY GOING TO BE SOMETHING, YO.

Sorry. Lots of exciting things going on here this week - end of school, awesome awards, shows, etc. It's been all rah-rah-rah here

So, today, I burst everyone's bubble by insisting that they clean their rooms thoroughly AND muck out the back seat of my truck. I'm a real party pooper, I'll tell you what.

Anyway, I thought I'd post bits and pieces of some of my stuff here - mostly for posterity and also because, hello, I need to clean out some memory on this here machine.

So, without further ado, part 1 of an as yet undetermined amount of "Carmen's Not Fit for Publication" pieces. This one was titled "Letters to My Children" and it was, duh, letters I'd written to my children discussing various aspects of life.

Dear Daughter,

Trust people. But be wary.

I say this as I sit on my 41st birthday and ponder what I just encountered. I was invited to go to brunch with a group of friends, people younger than me. I was excited to go and made plans. But when I arrived at the location, they weren’t there. Texting and phone calling assured me that they were coming, just running late, of course they wanted to see me. And it was my birthday, and so I waited. For more than an hour I waited, ordering my food and eating it by myself.

When I left, I saw that group of people, sitting in another area of the restaurant. They’d been there for quite a while, and never let me know.

There’s a reason that I am married to your father. He always makes me, and anyone who comes into contact with him, feel special. He would never pull the above prank on someone. Ever. He thinks of how others might feel in a situation and tries to always make those encounters positive. I try to do the same.

Be with people you trust. If you don’t, don’t be with them. I know, that sounds contrary, but if you think about it, it makes sense. You should be with people who make you feel good about yourself, people who bring you up and make you feel special and important and worthy. If you are with someone that doesn’t, you need to cut them

You are a worthy person. You are a great person. If someone doesn’t see that, it’s their loss, not yours. Those words may be platitudes, but they have a foundation in truth.

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

When people show you their true selves, believe them. When someone treats you badly – and this will happen, no matter how nice you are, no matter how many kind things you do for them – for people are selfish and only look out for what serves them – remember. Don’t accept it. If someone takes you for granted, don’t continue to work for them. If your efforts aren’t appreciated, don’t try to get the unappreciative to magically transform into someone who cares. In all probability, it will never happen. Well, it might happen – but you don’t need to hang around and wait for that person to grow up and realize their errors.

Respect yourself enough to demand to be treated in a respectful, kind and polite manner. You are a good person and you deserve it.

Love,

Mom

Dear Children,

Eat from the color spectrum. No meal should be all brown – that means no chicken nuggets with French fries and soda. Those are snack foods, and occasional ones at that.

The meals that you eat should have color – remember green and orange are not just colors in the crayon box, but the colors of some of the best tasting foods that also happen to be good for you. Broccoli, carrots, sweet potatoes, kale, spinach – don’t turn up your nose. Find a way to prepare them that you enjoy and eat them.

Eating vegetables not only improves all aspects of your life – longevity, health and well being as a starter – but will help you stay healthier and more energetic.

What have I been up to lately that has kept me so far from the home I love away from this here blog?

I may or may not have been mainlining show tunes for the past 72 work hours - that Fiddler on the Roof was some kinda show, eh?

The difference between Back to School and End of School is riotous.

We have new (or at least, clean!) backpacks, chockablock full of freshly sharpened pencils (probably those black ones that everyone loves and I only pony up the dough for once a year), all of the pens have caps AND ink, notebooks are stiff and solid. Fresh smelling, clean lunch boxes contain an appetizing array of well balanced, colorful meal choices that contain a protein, fruit, veg and healthy beverage choice and may or may not be Pinterest approved. All uniform pieces are pressed, socks match, sneakers are bright and unscuffed and dress shoes gleam. We know where the sweaters and headbands are for dress uniform, every girl has booty shorts for under her jumpers, and we not only know where the uniform tie is, we have a spare.

What I'm saying is, we ROCK the beginning of school.

We lose it sometime around, say, March.

My girls have approximately 45686774 tall green uniform socks. Half of them are cable knit, half are sheer. Every single sock is a different shade of green and a different height on a leg - but it really doesn't matter, because after they've had them on for seventeen seconds, those socks are in a puddle around the ankles. Guess that's what happens when you are #3 and #4 to wear those dumb socks?

In the fall, we'll be buying all new socks, because I swear to you I'm throwing all of these away. The stress of trying to make matches has caused my right eye to develop a twitch.

And don't look for those cute little bike shorts or bloomers under the jummpers - my girls have defaulted to pj bottoms. Hey, it makes getting dressed in the morning just that much easier...

Today, three of my kids brought home the contents of their desks and lockers and we cleaned out bookbags. There were ripped up notebooks, assorted random sheets, broken pencils and capless markers. Book covers that were once brightly colored, now multiple shades of gray. Half eaten (and forgotten) cereal bars ground into the bottom of the bookbags, empty juice pouches and cracker packaging. A cut out gingerbread man - labeled in Spanish, naturally - decorates my desk now, a remnant of winter break activities that never made it home. The desk plates with their names written in perfect cursive now grace my refrigerator, as if I'd ever forget who eats all of the food.

Speaking of food - there are three lunches left to pack for the two shorties - I don't want to buy another applesauce cup/cracker packet/granola bar, and we are all burnt out on pbj/soup in a thermos/cereal and milk/crackers and cheese. This morning, I stood in the pantry, coffeeless - never a good idea - and wondered if I could get away with sending some raisins and pretzel sticks. Maybe if I added a spoonful of soy butter?

Except that we are out of soy butter, even though we buy it 9 pounds at a time, and the replacement tubs won't be here until Wednesday afternoon. Food allergy timing fail on that one.

I understand the concept behind end of the school year ceremonies/concerts/shows/festivals - I just wish some of them could be in February. January, even. Maybe March, as long as Easter is late. In the past month, we've had my opera student's performance, two band concerts, May procession, auditions/juries, last 8th grade Mass, final exams, SOL's, Talent Show, Art Festival, 4 birthday parties, graduation,and Field day. We still have upcoming: Spanish NHS induction, final ballet performance, class parties and last day of school.

All but the last day of school could be spread out, don't you think? I mean, a band concert with a brand new trumpet student is kinda like the end of the year, and how much ballet do they really learn in 9 months, anyway?

:) I'm kidding. Maybe. I attend and take pictures and video, smile and clap and enjoy - but I'm conscious of the fact that I'm feeling like nothing so much as a failure by the end of the school year. Lunch accounts are overdrawn, papers go unsigned, I don't help to study for tests. Treading water takes on a whole new meaning in June. I envy those mothers who appear at the end of the school year parties with fresh outfits, cute hair, and a tray of custom cut strawberries and pineapple in pleasing cut outs for the class party, and send in professionally wrapped customized-to-each-teacher present.

I'm doing good to just show up.

Tell me your End of the School year fail. Let's stretch out on the sofa in exhausted solidarity and raise an eyelid to the long, tantrum filled, days of summer that are just around the corner.

And then we will make a paper chain as a countdown to the next school year, so we can have another chance to make a fresh start.

Wow!

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About Me

Carmen Staicer is a whirlwind of energy and execution, who never sleeps and drinks way too much coffee. She works from home as Social Media Programs Manager for SheKnows, and is the mom to six kids, most of whom play instruments, sing or dance and all of whom are much smarter than she will ever be. In other words, her house is never ever quiet or still. A concentration of asthma, food allergies, spectrum disorders and learning disabilities means that she spends an awful lot of time second guessing herself and Dr. Googling, as well as learning to cook everything the family might like to eat. In her spare time, she enjoys reading, boxing (she has her Black Belt in Muay Thai), sleeping, exploring coffee shops, photography, ballet class and cooking. She excels in being a smart mouth and has her major in sarcasm, with a dual minor in BS studies and avoiding laundry.